This has to be the weirdest thing ever.

Check out this website. Simple Kid is a guy (singer/songwriter/one-man-band) that I'm going to try to check out while I'm in Dublin. (If anybody has any tips on where I should go, music I should hear, etc., let me know.)

So yeah, this guy's website is strange. There's this weird doll thing that you can have a conversation with. It's like you're talking to somebody through Instant Messenger or something. I mean, I know you're not actually talking to anybody -- that certain words warrant certain responses. But geez, it is STRANGE. I said something like, "So you're basically a glorified magic eight ball, huh?" and it responded, "I am far superior. Are you heckling me?"

You have to check it out. Sometimes the responses are uncanny. Other times, not so much. It's fun, though. Addictive.

Just thought I'd give you guys an idea of where I'll be next week. (I'm not bragging. I'm just excited.)

Cliffs of Moher

The Aran Islands (Inishmor)

The Aran Islands (Inishmor)

Fire in the hole!

Yesterday I was reading a book about the history of Ireland. I started dozing off. Eyes shut. Head on the armrest of the couch. Nobody home. So quiet. And...

KA-BOOM!

A blast that shook the ground, rattled all of the windows, and made me jump a mile. Quickly followed by debris hitting the roof of my house. I'm not talking dirt. I'm talking rocks. And we have skylights.

Our neighborhood is across the street from the new Super Wal-Mart and three of the houses next to us have been sold as commercial property. They've bulldozed all of the houses and I guess now they're working on breaking up the foundations or rock below the foundations or something.

I'm 24. I'm in pretty decent shape. Our neighbors are all old. I hope none of them had heart attacks yesterday afternoon at around 5 PM.

Niiice.

Okay, I'm going to brag for a second. I totally didn't see this coming:

I PASSED FRENCH.

With a C. But nonetheless, I passed it. (I seriously think we all failed the final and he graded it on a HUGE curve.)

Suffice it to say, I'm starting over and taking Spanish I in the Fall.

(I also made 3 A's in all of my English classes. I'm pretty proud of myself. I mean, I took a two-year break from school, people.)

Ahhh. I can breathe easy now. I had been anticipating an F in French for two weeks.

Good ol' Sonny

This is pretty cool. I'm sure it has nothing to do with the fact that he's up for re-election. Still. I like good ol' Sonny Perdue. (And c'mon, is that not one of the greatest Southern names ever?)

Georgia Governor Hosts After-Prom Party

12 Days

Take it on home Alice.

That's right. School's out. (At least until summer classes start.) It's weird, though. I don't feel a real sense of closure. I feel like I should still be going to class tomorrow. I wonder why. Maybe because I actually enjoyed my classes (excluding francais) this semester. (That's a good sign, huh?)

Anyway. I have absolutely nothing I have to do until May 23. Besides read travel books, the short stories of Frank O'Connor, and a book on the history of Ireland. And download the rest of my CDs onto my iPod (I'm only on the B's in my collection), buy a good raincoat, a electricity converter, a good digital camera (have you seen the new ones with Bluetooth? Awesome.), and a calling card.

It is going to be a sweet two weeks. Better enjoy it. 'Cause the day after I get back from Ireland, my summer class starts. And we have to read 5 novels in that class, including one that is 950 pages long. (An American Tragedy. Anybody read it?)

I'm thankful that: My brother Parker is doing an internship in Atlanta this summer! I'll get to see him more.

I'm a happenin' gal.

That's right. I'm at home on a Friday night reading Carl Jung. (But, to my defense, I'm writing the last paper of the semester. It's a doozie.)

Anyway, ran across a cool quote. Thought I'd share (i.e. procrastinate).

It says, "Both Society and State derive their quality from the mental condition of the individual."
Uh-oh.

(I mean, I realize that's a fairly obvious assertion, but it's so well-put and simple. I don't know. Just liked it.)

I know my birthday's not until January.

But if anybody wants to buy me this Johnny Cash shirt from Urban Outfitters, I will not turn it away. Email me for my home address.

A Trip Down Memory Lane

The other day I was listening to an XM radio station (not sure exactly which one), and they played song after song of mid-90's rock. Isn't it amazing how certain songs make you remember certain memories so vividly? Here are some of the songs that were played:

Progidy: Firestarter

Gin Blossoms: Until I Fall Away

Nirvana: In Bloom

Soundgarden: Black Days

Pearl Jam: Daughter

And then they lost me when they played a Lenny Kravitz tune. That list could only be better by including some old Green Day, Weezer, Smashing Pumpkins, Cranberries, Alice in Chains, and (dare I say it?) Spin Doctors.

If you were making the perfect mid-90's rock compilation -- one that would evoke tons of memories -- what would you put on it? (I'm only asking because I think I'm going to make one myself, and I want you guys to do the brainstorming for me.)

Ahh, good times. Good times.

(For anyone that reads this before 11:30 PM on Wednesday: The Strokes are playing on Leno tonight. And Jeremy Piven is on there, too. Correction: They were on Conan at 12:30 and played "You Only Live Once.")

Proof that I'm getting old

I was looking at the Bonnaroo Festival (in Tennessee) line-up today. Sweet. Radiohead, Sonic Youth, Beck, Ben Folds, Death Cab, My Morning Jacket, Cat Power...

I mean, that's a great line-up, right? Before I even looked at the price of the tickets, I saw an aerial photo of the grounds where the festival is held. I saw the quadrillion cars in the parking lot. I saw the absence of trees and shade. I pictured the little indie teenagers that go to outdoor festivals.

And I realized... I am no longer a teenager, and I don't care if Radiohead and Sonic Youth are playing -- the thought of three days of teenagers making out, sweaty people bumping into me, beer getting spilled all over me, and the inevitable second-hand buzz from my neighbors just doesn't seem as fun to me.

Memories of Warped Tour circa 1998 will, in fact, remain memories.

For those of you that are braver/younger than I am, here's the link to the festival website.